


High Stakes

by Seascribe



Category: due South
Genre: Betting, Blowjobs, M/M, Poker, post-cotw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-21
Updated: 2013-10-21
Packaged: 2017-12-30 01:54:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1012641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seascribe/pseuds/Seascribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You guys play poker for <i>air</i>?"  Ray says.  "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."</p>
            </blockquote>





	High Stakes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mergatrude](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mergatrude/gifts).



> I was lamenting the fact that as much as I love Ray/Ray, I hadn't written any for Canadian Blowjob Day. Mergatrude asked for the first time RayV performed oral sex on RayK. Scribe provided the set-up. Deputychairman made the beginning better and assured me it could be finished.

The first time Ray picks up a deck of cards after he comes home from Vegas, he's sitting across from Fraser at Kowalski's beat up kitchen table. This whole thing was Fraser's idea. He'd called it an opportunity for traditional masculine bonding, which translated into English means that he wants to hang out with both of them and is sick of having to manage his schedule like the Queen to make that happen, so they'd better start getting along. Neither one of them is dumb enough to try to argue. 

So that's why Ray's sitting at Kowalski's kitchen table, shuffling a battered deck of cards with the Canadian flag on them. He's not trying to do anything fancy with them, none of the flashy casino tricks he had to learn so he could be Armando, but that easy competence isn't something you can unlearn. Kowalski and Fraser are both watching his hands, Fraser with a thoughtful expression and Kowalski with a little scowl.

"You still gonna arrest us if we play for money, Benny?" Ray asks. He does show off a little when he deals, sending the cards flickering unerringly across the table.

"I'm afraid so," Fraser says. He doesn't look the slightest bit apologetic. 

"We can keep on playing for air," Kowalski says with a shrug, like that's a totally normal thing to say. "How much do I owe you now, Fraser? Fifteen hundred?" 

"Something like that, yes," Fraser agrees. "But for the purposes of this game, I'm prepared to let it slide." 

"You guys play poker for _air_?" Ray says. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. C'mon, bet something real. At least candy or something."

"You're just saying that 'cause you know you're gonna clean up," Kowalski says. "A year undercover in Vegas, that is what they call an unfair advantage. Come on, Vecchio, ante up." 

Ray rolls his eyes. But hey, this is a nice change from the rigged games out in the desert, and at the end of it, nobody's going to be going home with their whole life in hock, so Ray can sit there and drink his beer and play along. 

The three of them are competitive enough that pretty soon it stops mattering that the bets aren't worth anything. Ray does win, but only barely, because Fraser's still some kind of freaky poker-playing savant. Kowalski doesn't lose quite as miserably as Ray'd figured he would; he doesn't stand a chance against Fraser or Ray, but he could probably hold his own at the table during a stakeout or something, playing for a few bucks.

"Great, now I gotta find a way to use up all of this extra air," Ray says, revelling a little in the absurdity that goes along with being friends with Fraser. He'd _missed_ that while he was gone.

"Oh, I'm sure you'll think of something, Ray," Fraser says, his face just a little too straight. Ray gives him a suspicious look, but Fraser just smiles at him and grabs his hat. 

"I really should be getting home," he says. "I told Dief I'd listen to the Oilers' game on the radio with him. Have an enjoyable evening!" He waves, and is out the door before Ray can even offer him a ride. He raises his eyebrows at Kowalski, who shrugs.

"You wanna play another round?" Kowalski asks, drumming his fingers on the deck of cards. 

"Sure," Ray says. "Your turn to deal." So what if that gives him a reason to keep watching Kowalski's hands, it's not like that means anything. Just another habit he hasn't lost since he's been back. "We playing for real stakes now?" 

"Yeah, and when Fraser finds out, you can explain it to him while he arrests us," Kowalski says. 

"Fine," Ray says. "What are we playing for?" 

Kowalski slouches back into his chair, giving Ray this weird look that can't decide if it's going for shy or aggressive. 

"I was thinking whoever loses sucks the winner off," he says. 

Which is pretty much the last thing Ray'd expected. He blinks. In Vegas, the card games went hand in hand with sex, and Ray's been trying real hard not to think about that tonight. But maybe it's not a Vegas thing, maybe Kowalski's been noticing it too. Maybe Ray's not imagining the way the sparks that are always flying up between them seem like they're about more than just pissing each other off. 

"Is that another weird thing you and Fraser have going?" 

"Would you shut up about Fraser?" Kowalski says. "You think we'd still be playing for air if it was?" 

"So you and Fraser never--?" 

"Nope," Kowalski says shortly. "You in or not?"

"Yeah," Ray says. "Yeah, I'm in." Because he and Fraser never had either, and he's got a feeling that the story Kowalski's not telling is pretty much the same one Ray took to Vegas with him. 

Kowalski gives him a sharp, knowing little smile. 

"Ante up, Vecchio." 

*

Ray's not really sure if he wants to win this bet or lose it, but it turns out that it doesn't matter. Kowalski keeps licking his lips and doing obscene things to the mouth of his beer bottle, and pretty soon, Ray's having a hard time even remembering which cards are high. 

Kowalski gives away his winning hand with a smirk as soon as it's dealt, and Ray tosses down his two-pair without even waiting to see what Kowalski's holding. 

"I kinda figured it was gonna be me down on my knees," Kowalski says, and spreads his legs a little to give Ray better access. 

"You don't look too disappointed," Ray says, and Kowalski's stomach jumps with a little huff of laughter. He's wearing button-fly jeans, and Ray pops them open in one quick motion, earning a low impressed sound from Kowalski. 

Under his jeans, Kowalski's wearing these threadbare cotton boxers that are so old they're practically see-through. Ray rubs the pad of his thumb along the length of Kowalski's dick, and Kowalski's hips twitch.

"You ever done this before?" Kowalski asks, a little breathless, and Ray ignores him, focusing on making it look like he's every bit as comfortable getting Kowalski's dick out of his boxers as he is dealing cards. He takes his time, tracing the same line he'd rubbed through Kowalski's boxers, dragging his thumb along the slit where Kowalski's already leaking. It's probably all a dead giveaway that Ray _hasn't_ ever done this before, but Kowalski's already long past caring about that. He's got a white knuckled grip on the edge of the chair and is whining a little in the back of his throat. Ray wraps his hand around him and squeezes, real lightly. 

"Christ, Vecchio, your _hands_ ," Kowalski mutters, his eyes fluttering closed. "More, come on, come on, need you to touch me." 

"That wasn't the bet," Ray says, and Kowalski shudders all over, like for a second there he'd _forgotten_ why Ray was down here on his knees. 

"You're killing me," Kowalski says. He's looking at Ray again, his eyes wide and glassy "You and your goddamn mouth." But he sounds almost tender, and he pries his hand away from the chair to run his thumb over Ray's mouth, dragging a little on his lower lip. Automatically, Ray licks his lips, his tongue flickering against the pad of Kowalski's thumb. Kowalski groans. 

Ray'd been on the receiving end of a lot of blowjobs, in Vegas, and he'd had vague ideas of doing Kowalski like that--hard and fast and wet, like an olympic sprint, with release at the end of it like fireworks. 

But when he's actually doing it, when he puts his mouth on the head of Kowalski's dick, and Kowalski says, "Yeah, that's good, Vecchio, that's perfect," curling his hand around the back of Ray's neck--not trying to make him move, just holding on--Ray forgets all about _fast_. He lets the taste of Kowalski's precome spread over his tongue, listens to the hoarse desperate noises Kowalski's making, savours every twitch and shiver that runs through Kowalski's body as Ray takes him in. 

When he's got a pretty good feel for it, Ray starts testing his own limits, sliding down Kowalski's dick til his eyes water and trying to swallow around him. It makes him gag a little, and Kowalski breathes, "Hey, you're doing great, take it easy," his thumb rubbing gentle circles under Ray's ear. 

Ray wants to tell him to shut the fuck up, Ray's not some sixteen year old girl blowing her boyfriend after the prom, but to do that, he'd have to stop. He's got a rhythm going now, one that works for Kowalski, gets him rocking up just a little to meet Ray's mouth, making the chair creak. 

"Fuck," Kowalski grits. "Vecchio, fuck, can I--I wanna--I--" and he never manages to get it out, but Ray knows what he's asking. He hums around Kowalski's dick, giving him permission, and he's ready for it when Kowalski comes, spilling hot and bitter down his throat. 

Ray swallows, and swallows again, and pulls away from Kowalski with a groan, so turned on that he can't even bother with trying to undo his belt, just grinds against the heel of his hand through his slacks.

"Lemme do it," Kowalski mumbles, sliding out of the chair and tackling Ray awkwardly down onto the linoleum. He gets Ray's pants undone and wraps a hand around him, ducking his head to kiss Ray, deep and sloppy, chasing the taste of himself behind Ray's teeth. It's only a couple of seconds before Ray grunts and comes all over Kowalski's hand. 

Kowalski makes a smug noise and flops over to lie on his back beside Ray, staring up at the ceiling. 

"You think Fraser set us up?" Kowalski asks through a yawn. 

"Fraser wasn't the one who suggested we play for blowjobs," Ray points out. 

Kowalski laughs softly. "I can't believe you went along with that." 

Ray shrugs. "Better than playing for air." 

"Yeah," Kowalski says, sounding pleased. "It was. We, uh, we oughta have a rematch sometime." He's still looking up at the ceiling, but Ray can feel all of Kowalski's attention sharpening in on him.

"Or we could skip the poker next time and go straight to the actual foreplay, like normal people," Ray says. 

"In a bed and everything," Kowalski agrees. He reaches over and tangles his fingers with Ray's. Ray grins up at the ceiling. 

Losing in Vegas was ugly and terrifying and cruel, the kind of thing that Ray still has nightmares about. 

Here, lying on the dingy linoleum in Kowalski's kitchen and holding Kowalski's hand, losing feels like coming home.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [High Stakes (podfic)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1102246) by [mergatrude](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mergatrude/pseuds/mergatrude)




End file.
